Ties that bind
by jackdawsinflight
Summary: This is my first attempt at Peak Practice fan fiction, so please forgive any inaccuracies - and the abominable writing. It is a 'gap-filling' story, set between episodes 5 and 6 of series 2 ('Long Weekend', when Jack's past with Karen is revealed, and 'Chance Encounter', when Beth meets Michael ). It explores what might have happened between Jack and Beth during this time.
1. Chapter 1

The car door felt heavier than usual as Jack pushed it shut, emulating the leaden weight of tiredness and despondency in his bones. He had driven straight from London without stopping, his eyes dry with lack of sleep, his throat sore with sadness. He winced as he ducked his head against the siling rain, his neck stiff from the drive. He shuddered against the cold.

He had come to Beth's without really thinking; uninvited. It was late, so late that the village had that eerie edge of silence, when even the stop-outs have succumbed to sleep. He hadn't thought through how she would respond to his appearance on her doorstep at this ungodly hour, but, to be honest, he didn't really care. He needed to see her; to be near her. Even if she was grumpy and terse. Even if there was no future for them as a couple: he just needed her tonight.

He knocked gently at the door, grimacing as the sound rang out across the street. Almost simultaneously, the light in her hallway flicked on: Beth had heard his car and was already awake. She came to the door and unlocked it, meeting his gaze through the glass. Her expression was sleepy and, at first, difficult to read. Wordlessly, she pulled the door open and, without speaking, he slipped inside, out of the rain.

As Beth bolted the door again, he shrugged off his jacket and hung it over a chair, shaking raindrops from his hair. Still they hadn't spoken. Uncharacteristically, he didn't know what to say, or even where to begin. He doubted whether he would be able to get the words out. So he just stood there, arms hanging listlessly by his side, feeling as though he had been kicked in the chest. Only his eyes gave his devastation away, laden with the emotional turmoil of the past few days. And it was his eyes that Beth could read fluently.

She looked at him intently, herself biting back the emotion of seeing him like this. For a split second, the wrongs and rights of the situation flickered through her consciousness, but the rising compassion in her chest was quick to trample any misgivings. She felt a physical compulsion towards him; an aching need to comfort him.

An almighty sigh, verging on a sob, left him as she bundled headlong into his chest, up on tiptoes, arms tightening around his shoulders. His hands clawed against her, clamping her against him, as she felt his face burrow into her neck.

"I'm sorry it's so late." He mumbled, his voice unsteady. "It's just… I needed to see you. I… I… needed you."

"It's OK." She whispered, finding herself involuntarily kissing his cheek, as she rubbed his back. She could feel him clenching his jaw against the onset of tears. "Shhh." She held him tighter.

They stood like this for some time, until eventually his grip loosened slightly. She pulled backwards so she could look at him: he looked exhausted, worn out from worry. He spoke: "Karen's OK. She's back in hospital now. I don't know why I'm so upset. It's just…. It's just…" His voice broke again.

"Shhh. I know." She stroked the roughness of his unshaven cheek in a gesture which, had the situation been different, would have been far too intimate for "just friends". "I'll make you a brandy. Why don't you head on up?" she gestured towards the stairs.

He looked confused. "Up?" They hadn't shared a bed in weeks.

"Um hmm," she nodded. "I just thought that you might fancy some company tonight. We won't… er…" she shrugged, deeming it unnecessary to complete the sentence "…but if you don't want to, I can make up the spare room…"

"I really could do with some company." He cut her off before she could go further, his face plastered with exhausted gratitude. "It's been a hell of a week."

"Well, up you go then." She smiled and turned towards the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

Upstairs, Jack lingered at the foot of Beth's bed, scowling at the ruined glass of her dresser. He knew shouldn't have dragged Beth into this, but deep down beneath his immediate angst and tiredness, he was glad he had. In some ironic and topsy-turvy way, Karen, the very person he hadn't dared mention to Beth, had re-ignited something between them. He didn't really understand how or why, but he could sense it in Beth. Something had shifted in her demeanour towards him and he knew her well enough to know it wasn't just sympathy he could read in her eyes.

Beth emerged with two brandies, which she placed on the dresser, following his gaze over the mess of splintered glass.

"Don't worry, Jack. It's easily fixed. Have a drink. It'll make you feel better."

"_You_ make me feel better." The words left his mouth before he could properly think them through.

Beth tensed and exhaled, her smiled tinged with exasperation. "Let's not complicate things, eh, Jack? It's late…"

"I know. I'm sorry." His hand flew to the back of his neck in a characteristic gesture evidencing his frustration. He was tired and confused by her mixed signals. "Maybe I should sleep in the spare room."

"If you like. It's up to you." Beth attempted to sound nonchalant, herself surprised by the disappointment she felt at this suggestion.

"I think it's probably for the best." Jack mumbled, collecting his brandy from the dresser. "Thank you for this." He raised the glass in a mock toast.

"Jack…" She protested, but it was too late: he had already gone.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a soft knock at the bedroom door, dragging Beth groggily from a series of superficial, yet unpleasant dreams. She scowled, as she was hit simultaneously with the memory of last night and the customary ache of her lower back, which inevitably followed a night of broken sleep.

"Morning." Jack's greeting was half-apologetic, half-amused by the disgruntled expression on her face, as she fought against the tangled duvet. God, he missed being with her; the simple moments like this.

"Will you accept a peace offering?" He lingered in the doorway, gesturing to the steaming hot mug of coffee in his hand.

"I always accept caffeine. In whatever format." She quipped, finally extricating herself from the sheets and propping herself back against the pillow.

He laughed at this, relieved that he was semi-forgiven. She patted the bed, inviting him to sit, as she eagerly accepted the coffee. He did as he was told, trying to ignore the sight of her tousled hair and the welcoming smell of her bedclothes.

"I'm sorry about last night." He managed after a moment or two of silence.

"Don't mention it." Her voice sounded convincing, but she couldn't look up at him, instead focusing intently on one of her fingernails. How had they managed to mess things up so badly? In truth, she wanted nothing more than for him to climb in bed beside her: for things to be how they were. To return to being the happiest she had been in a very long time. But somehow they had found themselves at this impasse. Both miserable: each still longing for the other, but not knowing how to find a way forward… or backwards.

She'd been through every shade of emotion over the past week. At first, when she had thought Jack had found another woman, she was jealous and prickly, spiking him with barbed comments and hurtful inferences. Beneath this exterior, however, she was beside herself with regret: she had let him go. The only person she had loved, truly and honestly, for many years. Subsequently, she felt angry with him for deserting his duties at the Beeches upon what she saw as a whim: "How dare he?" she had blustered to Isabel. Yet, underneath, she knew it must be something serious for him to behave in this way. Finally, when the situation with Karen had become apparent, she had felt herself crack open with tenderness for him; sad at what he had been through, desperate to comfort him and to be involved.

Of course, she acknowledged the hypocrisy of this, given her recent overreaction to Jack's attempt to support her following the incident with Martin Keele, a patient who had hit Beth. However, the strangest emotion of all was the new level of understanding Beth felt for Jack: she felt closer to him. Something, and she couldn't quite articulate what, had shifted this weekend, clicking into place. Perhaps her misgivings about his past were disintegrating; or maybe it was to do with him opening up about this precious and guarded aspect of his former life? Perhaps it was the shared experience of responding to Karen, and the evident comfort Jack drew from Beth being there? Or how he had bared his innermost thoughts about Karen, things about which he was ashamed and regretful? Whatever it was, she felt she knew him better, on more equal terms. The experience had evidenced to her the strength and depth of their partnership. Why hadn't she been ready to acknowledge this before? Was she ready now?

She reached out for his hand. He looked up and smiled half-heartedly at her. She wondered what he was thinking. Most likely, he was still fretting over Karen and hadn't given Beth a second thought. How wrong she was.

"Fancy some breakfast?" Jack asked. He was attempting morning cheer, but his face told another story.

It was abject torture for Jack, sitting here at her bedside. All of the guilt and regret he felt about Karen and his past was being forcefully funnelled into the present and his relationship (or lack thereof) with Beth. He thought he had learnt from his previous mistakes, he'd been so careful with her. He hadn't held back; he'd given her all of himself, heart and soul. He loved her so fiercely it sometimes surprised him. And yet, with Beth this had been his downfall: giving too much away, and asking too much from her. How could something that felt so right to him have gone so wrong?

He sighed heavily. He should probably go home. There was no point torturing himself like this; sitting here in her bedroom, longing for another chance he would never have.

"Yes. Breakfast would be nice." Beth's voice was clipped and breathy as she continued to focus her eyes anywhere but on him. Jack felt it was almost as if she could read his mind and didn't like what she saw. But when she looked up at him, her face was flushed and almost pleading.

"You OK?" He asked.

"Mmm." She nodded. "It's just confusing, that's all."

"What? What to have for breakfast?" He joked, attempting levity.

She laughed slightly, in that uncanny nasal way of hers, smiling up at him. "No, silly. I mean this." She gestured between them. "As in you being here again, in my bedroom, making me coffee… just like…" she hesitated, "just like you used to."

Jack smiled at this and squeezed her hand. "It's OK, Beth. You don't need to worry. I'm not trying to worm my way back in. You were there for me last night… as a friend… and friends can make each other coffee in the morning, can't they?"

"Oh Jack." She groaned. "You're more than my _friend_. I love you."

Jack laughed, hollowly. "And I love you. More than anything else in the world, but…" he shrugged, and looked at her helplessly, "we've been here before. And the problem is I want more of you than you are willing to give."

"But…" she interjected.

"Shhh. Don't, Beth. Let's not rake up old ground. It's painful and, after the last few days, I'm just not sure I can handle it."

"Jack…" she pleaded as he rose from the bed and headed towards the door.

He turned back to her with a forced smile, "So what'll it be for breakfast? Bacon sarnies? I'm on call, so I could do with something substantial. I'll nip to the shop."

Before she could answer, he disappeared downstairs, leaving Beth shaking so hard, it took considerable effort not to spill her coffee all over the sheets.


End file.
